


Oh to be Felinya, lovingly held in Dimitri's lap

by samariumwriting



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cat, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25810510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samariumwriting/pseuds/samariumwriting
Summary: Felix was a cat living out on the streets of Fhirdiad. One day, all of that changed.-“Father!” he called. The man turned around, a look of concern on his face. Striker kept scratching, but the coat covering the boy’s arms wouldn’t give and he couldn’t escape. “I want this one. Please, father?”
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Oh to be Felinya, lovingly held in Dimitri's lap

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the cat Felix zine! It just released, so now I get to show everyone *gestures* this. This is such a ridiculous piece but I kinda love it for how wild the concept is. I hope you enjoy!

Striker was a cat.

The streets he walked were his - his family had always patrolled the cobblestones of Fhirdiad, and their home had been here as long as anyone could remember. He’s known the name of each road since before he could go out on his own, and his family had always— and always would— rule these streets.

He also knew that his position was safe: his claws were sharp, his mind sharper, and he was agile and able. His position, his family’s position that they worked so hard to maintain, had gone unchallenged for many, many years. He was as secure as he could be.

But just because he’d always been safe didn’t mean he always would be— he learned that one day when prowling the fish markets. It was his usual daily haunt; the shopkeepers hated him, always shooed him away, but he couldn’t be deterred. The moment one of them turned their back, he’d snatch whatever fish he could get.

And that was what he’d planned to do on that day. But before he’d snatched more than a snack to whet his appetite, a child barreled out of the alleyway. He darted to the side, but the boy kept heading straight for him. Within a moment, he felt arms circle around him and he was scooped up off the ground.

Striker yowled, attempting to struggle and sink his teeth into the boy’s arm. When that failed, he tried to scratch at his arms, his face, willing him to just put him down. But the boy’s grip stayed strong, and he wouldn’t let go. He kept a strong hold around Striker even as he ran down another street towards a much larger man.

“Father!” he called. The man turned around, a look of concern on his face. Striker kept scratching, but the coat covering the boy’s arms wouldn’t give and he couldn’t escape. “I want this one. Please, father?”

For a moment, the man sized Striker up as if he were prey rather than one of the most dangerous cats on these streets. “Of course,” he replied, and Striker struggled harder. “If you think you can handle him.” And without more than a moment of thought, he turned to one of the vendors. “A medium size cage, please,” he said. Striker yowled again.

The cage was small and cramped, but at least it made it easier to direct his attacks. Striker bit any finger that dared come close enough, drawing blood more than once, but these captors didn’t seem to have any interest in letting him go.

Things didn’t look up from there, either. They walked further and further from the streets Striker knew, up to the castle he’d never considered visiting; he’d only ever observed. It was too far away from the familiar, and the strange could be dangerous even to the most able of cats.

He was carried up through corridors and flights of stairs, until they stopped in a small set of rooms. And when the door was shut behind them, they set the cage on the floor and opened it. Striker hissed, lunging straight for the boy’s face, and he jumped away in surprise. No matter; Striker went for his ankles instead.

Before he could land more than a single blow, a large hand plucked him from the ground. The man, this boy’s father, was even stronger than the boy, and held him effortlessly. He didn’t even flinch when Striker bit straight into his hand. “You may be a very pretty cat,” he said, and Striker bristled at his words, “but you’ll have to learn how to behave if you’re going to stay here.”

With that, he moved to a different door, opening it up just a crack and setting Striker down on a small platform. “We’ll let you out later when you learn,” he said, and then he closed the door, leaving Striker in darkness.

At first, he hissed and yowled as loud as he could, scratching at the door again and again. But then he started to get hungry, and there was no sign he’d be let out. And when he settled down, it became clear that the cupboard was also very cold. He could see light coming through a crack in the doorway, and through that he could make out a fire, but he couldn’t feel its warmth here.

Eventually, they let him out. This time, he sat still as they bustled around. He knew that if he did the wrong thing he’d be shut up in the cold again without even another cat’s body to keep him warm in the way he’d always managed on the streets. After a while, the boy came to sit in front of him, his smile bright. “Hello!” he said. “I’m Dimitri, and you’re going to be my pet kitty.” He said it with pride, and Striker felt a slither of dread slip down his spine.

But he held still, and moments later Dimitri’s hands closed around his neck. He yowled, trying to jerk away, and the hands were gone almost immediately. In their place, a weight had settled around his neck, and when he moved to try and work out what it was and hopefully get it off, a bell jingled. Dimitri giggled.

“Do you like it?” he asked, sounding excited. Striker did not. “It’s to make sure people know you’re a pet if they see you around, and also so we can hear where you are! Father suggested it, and I think it looks dashing on you.” His words all came out in a rush, barely making their way to Striker’s fluffy ears. All he could hear was the jingle of the bell as he moved.

They gave him food, and a bed to sleep on, but he still stewed. He didn’t want to be someone’s pet. He wanted to be out on the streets, free and fast and in control. But it didn’t look like he was going to be able to make that choice; the door and windows stayed firmly shut.

Whenever he did something he wasn’t supposed to - scratching a person or an object, hissing, tearing up small objects, doing his business outside the tray by the fire, leaving a mess - they’d shut him in the cold cupboard again.

But when he behaved, he was allowed to stay in the room with the warm fireplace. There, the rug was comfy, and he could get a lot warmer than he had even out on the streets. So he learned to behave, because there was no sign of being able to escape; he may as well make it as good as it could be.

Dimitri gave him a new name; Felix. It wasn’t as good as the name Striker, but it was fine. It lacked the power of his old name, but it wasn’t like he had the same kind of power he did before. Instead, he spent most of his days napping, or being petted by Dimitri. “You’re so soft,” he always said, a little awe in his voice as he ran his hands down Felix’s back. He did his best not to enjoy it too much.

Dimitri also fed him regularly; daily, with more fish than he’d ever managed to secure for himself before. It also tasted a lot better, too, so it must have come from different waters to the ones all the vendors at the marketplace used. It had a strange taste at first, but he liked that too, even if he didn’t like being a pet.

And Felix...Felix also came to like Dimitri. He liked being warm, being well fed. Even though the boy had a lot of strength behind his soft face and clear smiles, his hands were always gentle. Maybe he quite liked being petted, really.

The test of how much he truly liked it, however, arrived when one of the people who came to clean Dimitri’s room every so often left the window open. It was his chance to get some fresh air, at least. So, without thinking, he leapt up onto the windowsill and out onto the roof beyond.

It was good to stretch his legs. He ran the length of the roof until he came to the edge, overlooking a courtyard. There were some boxes stacked at the side, and another ledge a short distance down. If he wanted to, he could jump onto it and run away. He could make his way back to the streets that were still so familiar.

But Felix...found he didn’t want to. He thought of the warmth he’d found at Dimitri’s side, and the happiness when Dimitri ran his fingers through his fur. He thought of how Dimitri got sad easily, but when Felix curled up next to him he could help. If he purred in Dimitri’s lap or licked his face, Dimitri would smile. He didn’t want to leave that behind.

He turned tail and made his way back along the roof, eventually finding himself back at the open window. Just inside, he could see Dimitri...crying. He meowed as he entered through the window, and Dimitri raised his eyes.

“Felix!” he called, his face suddenly clearing of the sadness that had been so clear only moments before. “I thought- I thought-” He started sniffling again, so Felix jumped over to the table and butted his head against Dimitri’s side. Dimitri smiled, opening his arms for Felix to jump into them.

He did so, letting Dimitri pull him close to his still-shaking chest. He let a purr rumble through his body as Dimitri ran one hand down his back. “I thought you were gone,” he said. “I’m so happy you’re here, Felix.”

So he stayed, because it felt...right. And as he stayed, things changed a little. He didn’t get fat, not exactly, but he was eating a lot better than he had before. He filled out, and his coat shone in a way it never had before. He felt clean, and safe, and cared for. That was enough for him.

With time, he was allowed to follow Dimitri around the castle if he stuck close to his side. Felix liked getting fresh air and stretching his legs, so he was happy to keep the boy company. And one day, when he was standing up on the roof with Dimitri, he saw a cat he recognised: Glenn.

“Oh, a pretty little tame cat!” his brother jeered. His eyes didn’t hold any recognition, and Felix...Felix couldn’t blame him. He knew that after so long indoors, he must have taken on a different scent, and he certainly felt different. “Why are you up here with a little boy? Scared of the big outdoors?”

Felix’s tail twitched as he left Dimitri’s side. “It’s me,” he meowed, stepping closer. “Striker.” His name sounded strange falling from his mouth, not as right as it used to be.

Glenn’s pupils contracted, and his tail lashed twice, angrily. Felix tensed. “You’ve gone soft,” he spat. “What’s happened to your purpose, little kitten?”

Felix hissed at him, trying to warn him off. “I have a purpose here,” he said. “I-” He glanced back at Dimitri. How could he explain what he did for the boy?

“You keep his bed warm?” Glenn asked, his voice dripping with derision. “Enough. You’re a disgrace. I should have known that something like this had happened when you never returned.”

With that, he lunged forwards, claws bared. Felix stood stock still for only a moment before attempting to retaliate. Glenn landed one hit, another, a third, and he could feel the scratches burning in his chest. With every movement, he found himself slowing, faltering from the pain. Even when they fought as kits, Felix had never been able to beat Glenn. Now, out of practise, he stood no chance.

After a few moments, Dimitri’s voice cried out. “Stop!” he called, and then he...lunged between them, throwing Felix backwards. Felix meowed loudly, insistently, trying to warn him that Glenn was dangerous, but he didn’t listen. Glenn continued to scratch at Dimitri, no holds barred, and Felix could do little more than watch on in fear as Glenn landed a blow directly to Dimitri’s face.

Dimitri cried out, and the sound of his pain cut far deeper than the look of betrayal on Glenn’s face only minutes before. Felix dashed forwards, meaning to intervene, but Dimitri’s arm flung outwards, knocking Glenn off the battlements. Felix watched in horror as he fell, but breathed a little easier as he saw him run off across the courtyard below. He could only hope he wouldn’t return.

Glenn gone, Felix returned his attention to Dimitri. He was slightly hunched over, his hands covering his face. There was blood on his fingers. He meowed insistently, and Dimitri raised his head.

The wounds were...bad. He’d had no idea Glenn could cut so deeply, and it looked like he’d hit something pretty important. Felix jumped up onto the ledge, closer to Dimitri’s face, and attempted to lick the worst of the scratches. Maybe that would help it close up, or at least keep the dirt out.

“It’s okay, Felix,” he said, one bloodstained hand making its way to scratch behind his ears. His hand was a little clumsy, shaking, but it helped Felix feel a little better. “It’s fine. He’s gone now, and I’ll be okay.”

* * *

Felix curled up on Dimitri’s lap in front of the fire that evening. After Glenn disappeared, Dimitri took him to an area of the castle he’d never been to before. There, a woman healed his wounds, and they didn’t sting anymore.

Dimitri hadn’t been quite so lucky. The dressings over his eye, which couldn’t be salvaged from the attack, were thick and white. Dimitri had explained with great enthusiasm (and a shaking voice) that they’d be replaced with an eyepatch once the danger of infection had passed.

Dimitri’s tears had dried up, and now he was petting Felix, bringing his hand down the length of his back over and over. He would have thought the boy would get bored of it, but he didn’t seem to. Felix purred contentedly, shifting onto his back so Dimitri could see the soft fur of his belly.

He supposed Glenn was right; he had gone soft. But he had an important role here too in keeping Dimitri company, helping him when he was sad. Maybe what he’d had before that day in the market was more impressive, more dramatic, but...he liked this too. He was happy to be Dimitri’s pet, if here was where he could be loved and cared for and help someone in return.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment/a scratch behind Felinya's ears.
> 
> I also have a twitter over @samariumwriting if you fancy seeing me talk about writing, among other things!


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